


Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

by Go_Fic_Yourself



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clint is a hot mess, Crack?, M/M, Violence against vending machines, pining?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-01
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-15 19:15:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2240307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go_Fic_Yourself/pseuds/Go_Fic_Yourself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May and Phil share lunch. Phil is distracted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Take My Eyes Off Of You

May kicked Coulson under the table for the third time since they'd sat down for lunch. He snapped out of his momentary fugue with a blush and a glare. 

She leveled his with a stare, done with having her lunch interrupted by Phil trailing off into a longing gaze. 

"Really?" She said, looking to the focus of his attention before raising a "you've got to be shitting me" eyebrow.

"What?" He asked, hoping there was an explosion or some kind of emergency before she could ask again. No such luck. 

"Phil. Seriously?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about." He muttered, still very red, and went back to his lunch, purposely not looking at the man swearing at the vending machines. 

"Barton?!" She asked, growing increasingly incredulous.

"Melinda, keep your voice down."

She took a long thoughtful draw from her coffee cup. "I don't get it." 

"There's nothing to get." 

She shrugged. "I mean, he's a great sniper and a decent agent. And that ass. But-" The swearing increased in volume across the room. She rolled her eyes. "He's just so... Barton."

Coulson didn't dignify that with a response. Didn't even look up, so he didn't notice that Clint was walking over. 

"Hey boss, do you have change for a dollar? The machine won't take mine." 

Clint held out a crisp dollar bill. Behind him, Phil saw a junior agent feed a dollar into the machine Clint had just been engaged in battle with. It took it on the first try.

"Uh... Yeah. Hold on." Phil went searched in his pocket and produced four quarters, handing them to Clint and just letting the pads of his fingers brush over the soft dip of Clint's palm. Clint handed him the dollar without any extra touching. 

"Thanks boss!" He threw Coulson a sloppy salute before walking away, tripping twice on the way back to the vending machines.   
"He's a mess." Melinda confirmed. 

Coulson nodded a little dreamily. 

"You /like/ that he's a mess." 

"I don't know what you're talking about." Phil repeated himself and straightened his cuffs in an obvious tell. 

"That is the weirdest fetish I have ever heard of."

He cocked an eyebrow.

"Ok, maybe not the weirdest, but it's up there."

Phil shrugged, apparently over coy denial.   
"Seriously Phil, what the fuck?"

"There's something endearing about it."  
She glanced over at the machine where Clint appeared to have his arm stuck, trying to reach the purchase, which was dangling from the dispenser spring. "Is anyone actually sure that his bow doesn't give him powers or anything? I mean, have they done tests?" 

Natasha had walked over to Clint and delivered a swift elbow to the machine, making a half dozen snacks rain down. Clint wriggled his hand free, grinned sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. He got his snack and offered her one from the small pile she'd liberated. 

"He is an actual train wreck."

Phil shot her a cheeky grin. "And I can't look away."

Melinda rolled her eyes and went back to her coffee, she was so done with his shit.


End file.
